


Tis' autumn

by TheMaskedFantastic



Category: Elton John (Musician)
Genre: Fluff, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:01:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27049111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMaskedFantastic/pseuds/TheMaskedFantastic
Summary: Autumn has arrived and brought with it the wonders of a new relationship with a sweet little piano player. This is the perfect day spent together.
Relationships: Elton John/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8





	1. Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Dropping off some fluff for the Eltonites. Enjoy a sweet, autumn day with him as your partner. There will be 3 parts, documenting the day in detail from morning, afternoon, and evening/night. Thanks!

Autumn  
1970-71ish  
Morning

Maybe it is the enchantment of autumnal bliss or maybe it’s just allergies. Maybe it won’t last. Either way, you are only capable of dwelling within the present moment-- and the present moment reminds you that he is here. 

Sitting up in bed, you rise from slumber to bask in the peaceful quietude of early morning atmosphere. Or rather, the almost quietude, save the occasional snore emitting from the gentleman resting beside you. It’s not a bother, however, given that said gentleman is the object of your affection and- if you’re being honest- his snores are simply darling. You watch him for a moment as he snoozes. Faint rays of sunlight peek through the curtains and onto his fuzzy chest, which rises and falls in the rhythm of a perfect slumber. 

Gathering the energy to begin washing up and preparing yourself for the day, you begin to ponder the nature of the past few mesmerizing weeks. You aren’t entirely sure what extremely good deed you must have performed recently for the universe to have bestowed this sweetheart upon you. A mere month ago you’d been trudging through the mundane back at home, when there came the news of a great new band stopping by town. Being at once a photographer and rock n’ roll enthusiast, you jumped at the opportunity to check them out. The show could not have been more electric, the crowd more amped, and the leading man more charismatic. Had it not been for the intoxicating energy he brought to that cramped little club, you’d probably have more photographs from that night. In any case, it didn’t matter because it became your mission to meet him after the show. And to this, you certainly achieved your mission (even if it took a marked degree of personal meditation and calculated crowd-shoving). 

He calls himself Elton and his timid demeanor need not be mistaken for amateurishness-- he plays a mean piano. And he is, without a doubt in your mind, on an immediate path towards achieving amazing things. After some casual mingling that night, one thing led to another and before you knew it you were joining this Elton fellow on the road, accompanied by little more than your trusty camera and an rapidly increasing fondness for the young piano-playing maestro. Presently, the two of you (or rather, the two of you plus the rest of the band and a few others) reside in a cozy cabin seated in the middle of some forest somewhere, providing the quintessential autumnal backdrop to this trip. It is the first decent break Elton has gotten in a while, so you’re determined to make it count. Hence your initial hesitation to awaken him, despite morning quickly creeping in and the wafting smell of breakfast coming from the kitchen making your stomach growl. Finally you give in, reaching over to pat him gently on the head. 

“Good morning, sleepy. Rise and shine.” 

The sleepy man in question flutters his eyes open, then lets out a gentle yawn. “Morning, darling.” 

Before you even have a chance to digest the sheer force with which every ounce of flustered nerves strikes you upon receiving the label “darling,” you suddenly find yourself within a warm, tight embrace. You honestly weren’t prepared for this many emotions this early in the day, but what else were you expecting when agreeing to these particular sleeping arrangements?

He nestles his face in your neck and- although you just want to scream in joy- you simply smile and return the affection with a tiny forehead kiss. After eventually regaining your composure and convincing Elton to get up, the two of you discuss the day’s plans. 

“I don’t know. I wasn’t exactly counting on doing much today. Maybe just explore the area, take some photos.”

“Hmm, sounds good but…” he pauses, throwing on a flannel shirt. “Would you be interested in joining me on a day out in town?” He flashes a shy smile. You melt internally. “Oh, yes, uh- sure! That would be nice.” Another round of emotions threaten to redden your face. You need coffee if you’re going to get through this morning. 

“Now come on! I need breakfast...” you say, starting out the door. There is a sudden THUMP- “ow!” from behind you and you quickly turn around to discover Elton picking himself up off the floor while evidently feeling around a tabletop. “Heh.. Almost forgot my glasses.” Poor thing doesn’t know that they’re not even on that table. You quickly grab the square dark-tinted spectacles from their actual location and place them in the frazzled man’s hand. “Oh! Thank you, darling!” And with that, you scurry to the kitchen in desperate need of a distraction from your feelings. 

What remains of a few waffles and fruit sit on the kitchen table as you pour yourself some caffeine bean juice. “You guys are late. Someone brought donuts in from town earlier and they were delicious. All gone now though…” says the only other remaining individual seated at the table, who sips his coffee and flips through a newspaper. This is Elton’s best friend, Bernie. He is a poet/lyricist, who likewise possesses his own charm and unique sensibility albeit still a tad more reserved than his musical partner. Elton pouts and sits down, grabbing himself a waffle. “Well it is so nice having such considerate friends.” He sarcastically muses before sliding you your own plate as you sit beside him. Bernie smirks and shrugs. “You snooze, you lose.” While the two of them bicker like an old couple, you indulge in the newfound energy delivered by day-old fruit and hot caffeine beverage. A crisp breeze runs through a cracked window nearby, bringing with it the smell of early morning pine and wet leaves. A brief moment of mental clarity tells you to bask in this majestic and agreeable spectacle of autumn at its finest. Suddenly, you hear your name mentioned and the calm subsides.

“Well, it’s fine then-- we’re going to check out the town ourselves today actually,” Elton says, gesturing towards you. 

“Really? All day? As in… no work at all?,” Bernie asks with perplexed amusement. 

Elton sighs. “Nope. Everyone keeps nagging me to take a break, so I figure the weather’s supposed to be lovely today… might as well try out this whole ‘break’ thing.” He turns a bit, to shoot a playful glance your way. “I’m excited to spend some quality time together anyway.” Almost immediately, your face becomes flushed. Why must every little thing he says and does be utterly charming beyond comprehension? In any case, it’s a relief to know he is finally willing to put some effort in to relax for a day.

The gentleman across the table glances back and forth between the two of you knowingly. “So… are you guys…?,” he trails off, pointing side to side. You and Elton exchange an apprehensive look. Until then, you’d not bothered defining the nature of your relationship. Whether it was fear of judgement or fear of uncertainty, something prevented you each from actually acknowledging the elephant in the room. The elephant being: are we a couple now? You go through a mental checklist of “couple-y things” you’ve experienced. Romantic feelings? Check. Hugs? Check. Kisses? Check, sort of. Just on the cheek. Dates? Check. Hand-holding? Just once. 

While your brain rushes into overthink-mode and the blood continues rushing to your face, Elton breaks the ice with reserved confidence. “Yeah, we’re together.”

You melt and Bernie nods. “Cool. Thought so.” He rises from his seat. “I can keep it on the down-low if you’d like.” Elton quickly nods with gratitude. “That would be good, for now. Thanks, mate.” And with that, the young poet graciously sends his well wishes for a good day and exits the kitchen, leaving just you, Elton, and a considerable amount of tension.

For a moment, you simply watch him poke at the remaining syrupy bits of waffle on his plate. He appears contemplative, almost despondent. You take a deep breath and he looks up at you. 

“That is okay, right? I mean, we are a couple now, right? I hope I didn’t jump to any conclusions or anyth--,” he stops as you gently grab his free hand. As if by some miracle, now he appears to have become the flustered one for once, face evidently reddened. You smile and reassure him. “Yes, we are.”


	2. Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a lovely autumnal morning, the wonders of the afternoon arrive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Back with part two! This is the middle part of the tale. Just some more fluffy stuff, lots of zoning out and characters getting flustered. I've never written this kind of thing before but so far, it's been a lot of fun and I look forward to wrapping up this cute little story in the next final part. Hope you enjoy!

Afternoon

The rhythmic hum of busy streets and twinkling fallen leaves greet you as you get out of the car. This nearby town bears the air of a place touched simultaneously by history and modernity. In your opinion, the ideal getaway for a day such as this. 

With your partner having just barely yet to attain super-stardom, the ability to stroll together publicly remains welcome. Elton graciously offers you his arm, to which you happily accept. The seasonal chill strikes your face as the two of you scurry along arm-in-arm, and it is with immense regret that you recall leaving your scarf back at the cabin. Nonetheless you carry on without mentioning your body temperature, as it appears you’ll soon be entering a store, given the speed at which your partner is taking you. He seems to be in a rush, guiding the initially calm stroll into a rapid power-walk. Almost immediately you spot the obvious destination on the horizon: the record store. Ah, yes. Of course. 

A disorienting whirlwind of heat pushes against you for a moment upon entering the threshold. Before you know it, you find yourself in the presence of wall-to-wall records. Greeting the shopkeeper, you take a look around to admire the charming atmosphere of this little place. An impressive array of vinyls span the long, narrow aisles with brick-and-mortar style confidence. Unsure of where to begin, you know to leave the fate of this visit in the hands of the gentleman you arrived with. Literally. Elton grabs your hand, hurriedly leading you down an aisle and frantically uttering “Come on! Check it out! You gotta see this!” The enthusiasm is simply contagious and you can’t wait to see what it is, although in a record store such as this, just about anything could elicit that response from him. 

“Look, darling!” Elton points towards a record with the same giddiness of a tiny puppy that’s just found a tennis ball. You recognize the cover as his debut album from 1969, Empty Sky. “They have me--,” he says before pointing further down,”--and in the same section as Leon Russell! How neat is that? Part of me is surprised they actually have Empty Sky here but either way. It’s exciting, you know?” He gives a shy smirk while looking down, evidently a little embarrassed by his sudden urge to show off. But you smile warmly, squeezing his hand. 

“It is! And who knows? In another year or two maybe they will have more of your records here and you’ll have met Leon Russell by then.” 

Shaking his head, Elton looks back up at you, still bearing a shy smirk. “Oh, dear… don’t even. That’s like a dream. If I ever met Leon, I would lose it.” 

The remainder of this record store visitation consists primarily of Elton both mingling with the shopkeeper and guiding you through all the most recent popular records. Nearly every one he picks up receives a thorough analysis by him, as he explains how this band was signed with that label but the contract with that company meant that this artist was doing that with them. You want to listen and understand, you really do. But nearly an hour has passed and your body beckons for some lunch soon. The words coming out of Elton’s mouth eventually just jumble together in your mind, leaving you to vacantly watch the excitable mannerisms and intonation of your partner as he scribbles notes on a notepad. Gosh, he is a cutie. But gosh, it is lunchtime. 

Finally, taking note of your absent-yet-courteous stare, Elton makes a decision and purchases a couple records. You snap back into reality as he thanks the shopkeeper. Exiting, you are once again met with the dilemma of the cold. You grab onto your partner’s arm tightly, shivering for a moment. 

“Is it just me or did it get considerably colder since yesterday? I know it’s autumn now but sheesh. I did not prepare...” 

“Are you cold, darling? Would you like my coat? Do you need something?” As if the caretaker within him had just awoken, Elton proceeds to toss you a plethora of concerned questions regarding your body heat. 

“Oh, no-- I’m-- that’s alright! I’m fine, really, it’s just my neck and face. I- I should have brought a scarf.” You blush and nervously shrug off your complaints. 

“Nonsense, here--” he stops in his tracks, quickly unraveling his own plaid scarf before wrapping it snugly around you. The butterflies tickling your stomach are about ready to burst into an explosion of giddiness and you hope that the new warm cloth is enough to conceal your deeply reddened face. Your partner affectionately brushes your cheek and smiles. “You can keep that. Don’t worry about me, I was heating up under there anyway.” You look away, unable to make eye contact given the overwhelmingly adorable circumstances. To make matters better/worse, you cover your nose with the scarf, only to get a whiff of his slightly vanilla/slightly musky fragrance. So as to not die of flusteredness on the spot, you latch back onto his arm and hurry along, insisting it is time to stop for a meal.

Seated somewhere in the back of a tiny cafe, the two of you chatter away over your lunch. For some time, you teach him more about photography and the nature of what you do as he listens with clear interest even suggesting you two have a photoshoot later. Elton takes a moment to convey his own excitement over his newly obtained records, elaborating on them in immense detail. One is by The Band, another a vintage Ella Fitzgerald. Once again lost in the record talk, you simply sip your post-meal hot peppermint tea whilst listening to the best of your ability. You drink in the atmosphere, noting the way the windows beside you catch golden light, reflected off of the orange trees outside. Quiet, bluesy music can faintly be heard in the background as the chattering gentleman before you continues his enthusiastic infodumping. He picks at the remainder of his food while gesturing this way and that, bringing your attention to the various jeweled rings on his fingers, the bracelet around his wrist. There is something profoundly admirable about a gentleman who knows how to accessorize. 

“... well, anywho.” Elton suddenly removes his dark square sunglasses which, until now, he’d yet to remove all day. You presume that the glasses have a double function, by at once concealing him and presenting a specific stage persona. Either way, you wish he would remove them like this more often.

“The weather is fabulous. Might as well go for another walk later. What do you say?” He glances out the window, then towards you as he cleans the glasses’ lenses with a cloth. Soft, fluffy bangs cover his forehead while thick, shapely eyebrows and dark sideburns frame his face. A sweet button nose and deep, hazel eyes make up the toppings on his beautiful sundae of a face. Despite any self-conscious ideas he may hold about himself, you understand Elton to be a handsome little thing, absolutely oozing with charm and attractiveness. A truly enchanting sight to behold, you immediately lose track of time.

“... Well?” You blink and reawaken and he shoots an anticipatory look. 

“Huh? Oh, uh.. Yeah! That would be great… “ Embarrassed, you sit back, glancing out the window.

He chuckles. “You alright? That’s about the third time you’ve zoned out today. Or am I that boring?”

“No, no! Oh please, you are not boring. It’s just that I’m… “, you make some vague motion towards nothing in particular.

“You’re…?” Elton leans in, holding his head in his hand. 

Caught in a mild panic over whether or not to be honest, you just continue shrugging and gesturing. “I’m… it’s… “ You take a sip of water in an attempt to stall, yet your partner simply smiles, stubbornly awaiting your answer.

“You can admit I’m boring, it’s okay. I know I have a tendency to ramble on when it comes to records.” He smirks, rolling his eyes.

“No, stop! I love it when you talk about music! I just keep getting lost because you’re just, I don’t know. You’re really cute and handsome and I guess sometimes it gets distracting-- not in a bad way! I’m just… ehh…” 

Giving up on any means of holding it together, you sheepishly smile, and are met with the flustered, almost bewildered expression of your partner. Somehow giving a basic compliment like this has seemingly spiraled him into his own otherworldly realm of emotions. He looks down, smiling timidly and scratching the back of his head.

“That’s very nice of you to say, thank you…” he looks back up, meeting your gaze and taking your hand from across the table, “... Well, I think you are very cute and I’m delighted to call you my darling.” 

The afternoon concludes with more store visits, which result in a few impulse buys for the both of you, consisting of shoes, jewelry, and some books. Shopping appears to be another frequent pastime of Elton’s, which makes for a consistently amusing experience. You’ve no complaints, however. Just seeing him fawn over things, whether they be a pair of boots or an old dusty record player, is enough to make you gush. And even on the contrary- when he jokingly bitches about or pokes fun at something ridiculous- you never fail to crack up laughing. Honestly, you simply couldn't have asked for a better mid-autumn afternoon. 

As you walk back towards the car, the setting sun floods your surroundings in a sheen of gold. Dry leaves crunch underfoot and there is a peculiar spirit within the air which feels at once familiar yet distant. Maybe it’s love or maybe it’s just allergies. Either way, as Elton opens the passenger door for you, you pause momentarily before getting in and turn towards him. 

“After you-” he says, motioning towards the interior. Gathering the courage necessary, you interrupt any further remarks he may have as you lean into him close, gently meeting his soft lips to yours. 

After a few moments floating in another heavenly dimension, you pull back and flash a quick smile before hopping into the car. 

Meanwhile, Elton, evidently paralyzed with joy and red from ear-to-ear, continues standing in place with the door still open. You contemplate snapping your fingers in his face to alert him but he suddenly regains awareness and looks back towards you, smiling shyly. “Alright let’s go, darling…”


	3. Evening/Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The perfect autumnal day concludes with a cozy little evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! Thank you for so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed this fluffy tale. Early 70's Elton is just darling and I couldn't resist fleshing this out- it was so fun to write!

Evening/Night

“Old Father Time checked, so there'd be no doubt  
Called on the North wind to come on out  
Then cupped his hands, so proudly to shout  
‘La-de-da, de-da-de-da, 'tis Autumn!’”

The sonorous gold voice of Ella Fitzgerald crackles lightly from a sturdy turntable in the corner of what you’ve come to understand as the coziest cabin lounge known to mankind. A narrow sliver of crimson light peeking through the window reminds you that dusk is nigh. There also grows an increasing awareness of dinner being prepared nearby, with appetizing fragrances wafting into the room. Despite this, you decide against getting up, preferring to instead cherish the moment while it’s still here. And the moment happens to consist of splaying yourself out on a sofa whilst watching Elton rummage through his records enthusiastically. 

“This really is a fabulous song. Perfect for this time of year too.” Elton, seated cross-legged on the floor beside your sofa, stares intently at a vinyl sleeve. Since arriving back at the cabin the two of you have more or less taken to relaxing after that lengthy, chilly afternoon in town. Still, the satisfaction of having solidified your relationship status and returned affections has kept you on cloud nine. 

“My holding you close is really no crime  
Ask the birds, the trees, and Old Father Time  
It's just to help the mercury climb  
La-de-da, de-da-de-da, 'tis Autumn!”

Your partner looks up for a moment with a contemplative expression. Reaching out, you gently pat his head to get his attention. Turning towards you, he gives a small smile and takes your hand before getting up. Standing over you as you remain lazily splayed out on the sofa, Elton raises his brows and tugs lightly on your arm. 

“C’mon, dear. Get up!”

You groan in resistance. “Why… just a couple more minutes, then we can get dinner.”

Elton pouts like a stubborn child, then tugs your arm again. “No. Dance with me.” 

Immediately you freeze up and blush. This is certainly an unexpected request. But you aren’t sure it is humanly possible to reject a being as cute as the one before you. 

“Oh… um, sure-” You barely get a chance to swing your legs off the sofa before your partner grabs both your hands, swiftly pulling you up and into his arms. You’ve one hand in his and the other resting on his shoulder while your legs simply follow the blindly rhythmic rocking of your body. Needless to say, you are at first a flustered mess. Fortunately, Elton appears to know what he is doing and you simply go with it.

The light guitar melody guides and soothes you and your dance partner, whose warm smile and kind eyes (visible albeit still shrouded beneath brown gradient lenses) are just as lovely up close as at a distance. Unsure as to whether it is this proximity or the fact that you still have yet to remove the scarf he’d gifted you earlier, the faint vanilla musk fragrance becomes all the more evident. Somehow you feel as if you’ve successfully achieved a perfect balance of calm and giddiness. The two of you sway around gently, hand-in-hand, as the song concludes, the arm and needle coming to a halt. Whatever remaining daylight has since faded and you are left navigating by the light flooding in through the doorway from the hall. Pausing for just a moment, so as to drink in the atmosphere, you both simply look at one another, giving a small smile. Elton plants a tiny kiss on your lips when suddenly a loud cough is heard.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt--,” a silhouetted Bernie stands at the doorway.

“And yet you are.” A cheeky Elton interrupts his friend’s interruption, grimacing. 

“Right, well whenever you two are done, dinner’s ready.” 

“Thanks, Toots.” Elton waves before turning back towards you, planting one more kiss.

_______________________

A vast assortment of delicious smells greet you as you begin your meal. A few friends of the band were kind enough to prepare everyone some extra options, and much to Elton’s pure delight, one of them is a curry penne pasta dish. You watch him dig in enthusiastically, then scan the rest of the table to see others joyously dining. A symphony of clanking forks and plates, glasses meeting tabletops, and chit-chatting fills the room with a casual, comfortable aura. While you continue with your food, Elton discusses the events of the day sans the more intimate details of your affections. Glancing up and noticing the sheepish reactions of those listening, you get the sense that most of the party are already onto you guys anyway. In any case, you can’t be bothered. There is tasty food in your mouth, a sweet handsome gentleman beside you, and an atmospheric warmth surrounding you which cannot be matched. 

________________________

“Oh! Darling, how do these ones look?” 

As you finish carefully adjusting the spotlight, Elton- who has been busying himself with making wardrobe selections for this little evening photoshoot- requires opinions. 

“Looks snazzy! Here, let’s use this seat too--” You grab a nearby chair to slide under him as he situates a pair of black sunglasses onto his face. 

“‘Snazzy’ you say? Hm. I was hoping it would be something more along the lines of ‘sexy and daring.’” He flashes a cheeky grin as you quickly turn and walk towards the camera, hiding your reddening face. 

“Alright. Whatever floats your boat, Mr. Sexy-And-Daring.” Before you have a chance to possibly die of embarrassment for what you’ve just said, Elton snorts and chuckles, then scurries over to his designated spot before the camera. He strikes a pose with his arms crossed.

“I’m ready. Remember to get my good side, dear.”

You continue fiddling with the camera and lighting, making sure the setup is just right. Evidently Elton becomes impatient, breaking his pose and sitting in the chair, eventually lounging with his chin rested on his arms. 

“Just a moment, almost ready…” Finally things seem in place and you take a quick couple candid snapshots of the lounging subject. 

Upon hearing the clicks and flash, Elton perks up and strikes a pose once more. Throughout the session, he goes from seated, moody poses to standing and beaming, to downright goofy and adorned in an oversized fluffy coat with a shoe precariously placed upon his head. You can’t stop laughing to the point where taking your work seriously at all becomes a huge challenge. Eventually, he invites you to join the fun. Despite your initial hesitation, the urge to have your picture taken with him becomes hard to resist and before you know it the two of you are engaged in a goofy-face-making competition while taking turns jumping in one another’s arms, desperately trying not to cackle after each snapshot. 

By the end of the session, garments and accessories of every imaginable variety are scattered on the floor. Elated and exhausted, you begin cleaning things up.

___________________________

Steam billows and mingles with a rush of cool air as you exit the bathroom and head for the bedroom. It is truly a disservice to the zen nature of a calming, hot shower that such temperature shocks always proceed them. This entices you nonetheless to simply hurry and seek additional warmth-- this is where your partner comes in handy.

“Darling, I’m thinking about getti-- AH!” 

Elton is cut off by the abrupt landing you make upon him while jumping into bed. Having been deeply consumed in the catalog he was reading, this appearance evidently throws him off guard. He smirks and ruffles your damp hair while you roll over to lay beside him. 

“Sorry, what were you saying? You’re thinking about getting…?” 

“I was looking through this and look at these-,” he thumbs through a few pages of the booklet before pointing to an image of a pair of red boots. “I’m thinking about getting them.”

“Wow! Fabulous. You would definitely rock those.” You glance up and lean in closer. He gives a shy smile, still gazing at the catalog for a moment. There is a unique spark of charm which enchants you everytime he becomes lost in the joy of shopping. It’s clear to you how much he treasures being able to play with costume and dream about what is possible on the stage. To some, it is a simple pair of flashy, red boots. But to him, it is another important accessory to help launch his wardrobe and persona as the man and performer he wants to be in the world. This is why you know support is vital, and by the looks of it, he’s thankful.

Yawning, Elton tosses the catalog aside, then- in an impressive feat of agility- tosses his shirt off with one arm. There is no time for you to react as he instantly wraps an arm snug around you, cozying up. You are certainly grateful for his furnace of a body, which radiates an unfathomable degree of comfort. In an effort to return the cozy gesture, you rest your head upon his fuzzy chest. Butterflies swarm in a frenzy within your stomach as you listen to the beating of his heart and rhythm of his breaths. 

“Hmm, your hair smells like… tea tree oil.” Suddenly your head has become the subject of your partner’s curious sniffing. 

“Yeah, that’s my shampoo. You like it?” 

“I do, it’s lovely!”

The two of you quietly rest for a few long minutes, cradled within this warm embrace and accompanied by the ambient golden light of a single lamp, fleece blankets, and a multitude of fluffy pillows. Drawing in a deep breath, you hug Elton a bit tighter. 

“I have that song stuck in my head.” You say in a hushed tone, so as to not break the peaceful atmosphere. 

“Which one?”

“The Ella Fitzgerald one from earlier.”

“Oh, yes! I adore that song.”

“It is wonderful. So relaxing…”

You suddenly feel the chest-pillow beneath you rise higher, bringing in a deep diaphragm breath and with the exhale comes a notably melodic voice, partly muffled by the proximity to your ear. He begins singing quietly, captured by the mere mention of the song.

“The trees say they're tired, they born too much fruit  
Charmed all the wayside, there's no dispute  
Now shedding leaves, they don't give a hoot!  
La-de-da, de-da-de-dum, 'tis Autumn!”

Unsure if you should remind him that resting his voice is important before the tour picks up again, you consider interrupting. However, he wraps another arm around you, engulfing you in warmth as your fluttering nerves ease into a gentle calm. 

“My holding you close is really no crime  
Ask the birds, the trees, and Old Father Time  
It's just to help the mercury climb  
La-de-da, de-da-de-da, 'tis Autumn!”

You close your eyes. The sweet voice which serenades you with this unexpected autumnal lullaby has proven to be the ideal antidote to any previous anxieties you may have had. Too drowsy for words, you poke your head up for a moment to place a small kiss on Elton’s nose. He smiles tenderly, then continues singing as you drift off into a soft slumber.

“It's just to help, the mercury climb  
La-de-da, de-da-de-da, 'tis Autumn!”


End file.
